


Flipped

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Episode Fix-it, F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14195136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: How one conversation with the person you least expect can turn everything around. (Partial rewrite of ‘Gone’ – Season Six, Episode Eleven.)





	1. Part One

“Y'know, I love this hair. The way it bounces around when you–”

Buffy sucked in a steadying breath to keep her mind from completely melting into a puddle as her free hand found a spatula in the sink behind her and used it to take a swing at Spike and all his stupidly tempting words.

He grabbed her wrist. “Uh-uh. This flapjack's not ready to be flipped.”

She squinted at him, hating how much she loved the feel of her hand held in his. “What the hell's that mea–” she began, the question breaking off as _his_ free hand found its way to her thigh and began rubbing it gently through the fabric of her jeans.

A soft moan escaped her, and she found herself falling down the rabbit hole again. Until, of course, Xander walked in.

“Good Godfrey Cambridge, Spike! You're still trying to mack on Buffy? Wake up already. Never gonna happen.”

She jumped away from the Vampire in question, thankful her friend was so oblivious and feeling a little bit lost without the feel of Spike’s hands anchoring her to the world. It was weird how he could do that, even while he was making reality melt away into a non-scary fog that would give her a minute’s peace.

And, oh god, Xander was still talking. “Only a complete loser would ever hook up with you. Unless she's a simpleton like Harmony or a loonytune like Drusil–“

“Uh, hey! You really need to get Dawn to school. Let's go fetch her,” Buffy interjected, shepherding the errant carpenter with his stupid tongue out of the kitchen and towards the front door before calling back to Spike over her shoulder, “You can let yourself out, right?”

_He has a less stupid tongue that can do all kinds of things and, gahh, Buffy, where did that thought come from? Focus!_

“Dawn! Xander's here. Come–”

“I'm here.”

Buffy did a double take, cutting herself off once more as her sister appeared beside her. “Oh. Got all your–?”

“Yep.”

“And after school, you'll–”

“Yeah, yeah. Let's go, Xander.”

Buffy cringed at the clear dismissal but finished her sentence anyway. “–you'll come right home?”

“Sure...” said Dawn, complete with patented eye-roll. _Wasn’t it me that patented it, or was it Spike?_ Buffy shook herself out of the thought just in time to catch Xander give her a sympathetic smile that was more grimace than grin. _Great, now everyone pities me._

“Uh, Dawn, I’ll be out in a minute. I just remembered there was something I wanted to say to Buffy.”

Both sisters turned to look at him before making mutual mutterings of agreement. When the coast was clear, Xander dived right in to say, “Look, I know she’s being hard on you, but it’ll pass.”

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?”

Xander looked away, and Buffy had a sudden sinking feeling. “Actually, I was gonna ask you about that thing with Spike, before.”

 _Oh, god!_ “Uh, thing?” she crossed her arms across her chest. “What thing?” _So much for oblivious best friends. Who can you really rely on these days?_

Xander must have found his confidence in the whole two seconds it took Buffy to wig out, because he looked back at her again, cool as the preverbal cucumber. _Stupid chilled-out vegetables._ “I’m not saying there’s a thing, it just occurred to me that he was standing awfully close – way into your personal space – and you’re the Slayer, right? Nobody really gets in there unless you want them to be. Anyway, if that is the case and you two are… _you know_ … then, I guess he’s what you need right now. I mean, who doesn’t need to blow off a little steam, right? Not that I’m saying there’s blowing or, you know what? I’ll leave that analogy there. The point is – and I’m really going to stop talking after this, I swear – but the point is,” he took a breath, “If you and Spike are hypothetically together, and you were hypothetically not telling anyone because you were, say, worried about the reaction of a carpenter that likes to put his foot in his mouth and might occasionally say the wrong thing, I wanted to let you know that you wouldn’t really need to worry about that. _Hypothetically_.”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open a little bit. It took her a long moment before she could form the words to say, “It occurred to you? Was this before or after you inadvertently insulted me? I, uh, mean, if it were true, that is– not that it is, I mean–”

“Buffy?”

She swallowed, thankful for this interruption. “Yeah?”

“I should really get Dawn to school.”

“Oh.” Buffy took a breath, steadying herself once more. “Uh, yeah. That’s… that’s a good idea.”

He gave her another smile, this one more reassuring.

“Thanks, Xander,” she heard herself say, feeling genuinely overcome with gratitude at his surprise acceptance. It was so freeing, it took her a full minute after he closed the door behind himself for her to realize that her non-response had been a confirmation and, _oh, god, now he knows. Xander knows!_

Buffy resisted the urge to hit her head against the wall as she felt an all too familiar presence behind her. Whipping around, she swallowed at the look on his face. “You heard that, huh?”

Spike opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. Not sure if she was glad of the distraction or not, Buffy swung it open expecting to see Dawn on the other side saying she’d forgotten a book, or Xander standing there with a big sign that said, ‘April Fools!’

Instead, there was a little old lady with a clipboard.

“Uh, hi?”

“I'm Doris Keller. From Social Services.”

“Oh.” _Oh, shit._


	2. Part Two

Buffy stared at the short lady on her doorstep, hoping it would make her disappear. It wasn’t often that she got to be taller than other people, so she made the most of it, standing as straight as she could and hoping it passed as having nothing to worry about. “Can I help you?”

Doris smiled. “I hope so, we have an appointment.”

“For Wednesday,” said Buffy, completely certain she hadn’t gotten that wrong. Or mostly certain. Wasn’t it on the calendar?

Doris’ smile dropped. “This is Wednesday.”

It took all of Buffy’s mental strength to stop herself from slapping her forehead. “Right,” she said instead. “Of course. Well, please…” she flashed what she hoped was a convincing smile, “Come in.”

Stepping aside and gesturing towards the living room, Buffy’s internal warning siren then went into overdrive as her eyes landed on all of Willows spell books and other magic… _stuff._

“Excuse the mess. I’m doing a little house cleaning. That bag isn’t what it looks like, it’s–”

Spike cleared his throat and stepped around Buffy. “I’ll get these theatre props out of the way. I’m sure the… _theatre_ will be glad of the donation.”

Buffy blinked at him, then at Doris who looked him up and down. “Ms. Summers, if you need some time with your boyfriend, I can–”

Mouth opening on reflex, Buffy began to say, “He's not my–” before catching herself and sharing a significant look with him. “I mean, he’s not supposed to be here. He doesn’t live here, or anything, he just–”

“Came by for the props,” he reaffirmed, saving the day once more. _When did I start sucking at that?_ Buffy gave a little mental shrug, glad they had at least improved from their cover of being ‘in a band.’

Spike stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “The name’s William. I won’t get in your way.” Then, picking up the box, he made towards the kitchen under the pretence of sorting through it. Buffy thanked the gods.

Looking back at Doris, she found the old lady smiling after him. “He seems nice. You say he doesn’t live here? Have you been together long?”

“Uh, no, we…” Buffy looked back and forth between the kitchen door and the woman who was clearly her new nemesis. “We’re kind of new at this.”

Doris’ eyes focused back on Buffy. “And how does Dawn like him? I assume they’ve met.”

She felt a gentle sigh of relief flow through her. This was one thing she didn't have to B.S. about. “They get on great, actually. They really bonded after I die– I mean,” Buffy’s eyes popped out a little as she caught herself, once more, about to put her foot in it. _So I still need to sugar coat it a little; doesn’t make it any less true._ After a moment’s pause, she tried again. “After Mom died. Spike was there for all of us.” As she said it, she realized how true it really was. _But why is Doris still looking at me like a crazy person?_

“Spike?” she questioned.

 _Oh, right._ “William. It’s his nickname. Inside joke kind of thing.”

Doris nodded in a way that made Buffy believe she was mentally transcribing the whole conversation to play back later for her superiors. “So you’re newly together, but you’ve known him at least since last year?”

Buffy forced another smile as she replayed all of her and Spike’s more colorful moments throughout the years in her mind. “Sure, we go way back.”

Doris’ expression turned thoughtful, and Buffy thanked the gods once more when the conversation moved on again to become more Dawn-centric and away from Spike and her relationship with him.

Finally, the interrogation ended all together and the Slayer was relieved to see Doris looking vaguely satisfied. The second she was gone, Spike reemerged from the kitchen and Buffy sagged into his arms.

“I never want to have to do that again.”

She felt a smile against her cheek as Spike began to pet her hair. The sensation brought her back to herself, and she pulled away, trying not to notice the look of disappointment on his face.

“We gonna talk this out?” he asked, physically bracing himself for either a physical or emotional blow, Buffy didn’t know. A sick feeling accompanied the realization that he had good reason to expect either from her.

“No,” she heard herself say.

“Fine,” he snapped, beginning to move away himself.

She reached out again and held him fast, until he looked at her again. _It's so much harder when he looks at me. Why is that?_

“How about we nap now and talk later?”

Clearly intent on studying her face further, Spike didn’t reply.

“Please?” she pressed, feeling weak for having to ask at all. “I’ve had a hard day.” She had to look away as she begged. That wasn’t supposed to be her role in… whatever they had.

Next thing she knew, Spike’s fingers were on her chin, tilting her face back towards him before searing her lips in a kiss. Another wave of relief broke over her. They’d still have to talk, but not yet. She didn’t know what she was going to say when they did, or how she would even begin to get the words out but, for once, he was touching her and she wasn’t fighting him.

 _I want this_ , some deep, deep part of herself whispered. Still and quiet as it was, the force of the thought overtook her. _I want this, I want it, I do._

And it occurred to Buffy that, with the excuse of her friends’ hypothetical reactions melted away, there wasn’t really anything stopping either of them.

They walked over to the couch and, just before they sunk into it and into each other’s arms, Buffy dug in her pocket and pulled out Spike’s lighter, tossing it to him.

He smiled and handed it back. “It’s okay, I’ll come find it again tomorrow.”


End file.
